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Grey Sparrow Journal

Issue 30, July 31, 2017
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The Eroding Hourglass

 

 

 

Glass—

 

walls and walls of glass

cut from the skyline

are the new

mountains.

 

Those vanished

in seconds

the new

            Babylon.

 

But the rain we feel

hard upon our foreheads

has little changed

 

except

perhaps

in its translation.

 

              ―John Sibley Williams




Communion

 

 

 

The old stone church

steeple worn into the gray

cityscape:

perforated skyline—

speaking at

each other,

endless

diatribes—

 

with thousands of industrious

glass gods:

either a window facing east

            the rail yards

or a window facing west

            the open sea

 

and down below their arguments

the man

rows endless circles

around the small park lake.  

 

              ―John Sibley Williams




Procession

 

 

The carnival was to pass this way—

 

some washed and hung their twisted spines

from the eaves and from the lamp posts,

some washed and hung their twisted dreams

made innocent in their numbers,

some made amends with their latest dead

but most had forgotten where those knives were kept

and how to juggle the smaller fires.

 

But, together, we all lined

the single street leading to town

wearing our best costumes of ourselves

and in the whirling rose petals and howls

I gleaned the wide eyes of youth

and that familiar desire to simply

wait, together, for nothing

and nothing more.

 

              ―John Sibley Williams